Misunderstood
by embracing-shadows
Summary: Greg sees Nick kissing a woman in a bar and misunderstands. Soon, they both have something to be sorry for, and only Sara has both sides of what happened.
1. Nick's POV

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!

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NICK'S POV

The bar was so hot I was tempted to take my shirt off and use it to mop my forehead. Why Sara wanted to come here was beyond me, but I had agreed to come with her so she wouldn't get date raped or something to that effect. I doubted she would because I've always considered her too smart to land herself in that kind of situation. Although, Catherine did, so maybe it was a good thing I had agreed to come along for protection. I made sure not to sit too close; that would discourage any potential dance partners for her, and she really needed to loosen up more. But when ever she was off on the floor I found myself bored beyond belief.

And that's what led me to accept that girl's offer. Don't get the wrong impression here, I'm about as straight as a winding road and I was happily dating Greg. But damn it I was so bored I was ready to just leave Sara to get raped. I'd never do that, but I sure felt like it. So when a petite little blonde came flouncing up beside me and said she's been eyeing me for some time across the room I gave her a little smile. And when she asked if I'd like to dance a couple numbers with her I figured it couldn't do any harm.

I caught Sara's eye and signaled that I'd be within screaming distance and she gave me a curious nod. Shouting to her that I was only dancing because of the dullness of this place didn't seem like a good idea, so I just shrugged and followed the little blonde a few paces on to the waxed wood floor. Right away she got pretty close and I didn't like it very much but I wasn't about to be a spoilsport. I let her hang her hands around my neck and lean her head on my chest, hoping to God that Greg would hurry up and get here soon so I could dance with him instead. He was running late, caught up in a case, and had promised to come as soon as he could.

I managed to dance one slow song all the way through without any conversation, and the next song was fast, so the woman was too busy to talk. But she wouldn't let me go back to sit down on the third song. She locked her arms around my neck again, drew me close, and tried to get me to talk to her. She asked about my job, my hometown, and my favorite foods. I honestly was starting to think it might be me that had to watch my drink for date rape drugs. My answers were vague at best in my attempt to keep a distance from her. But she was one of those chatty Cathy's that had everything to say about nothing, and she spent the better part of that third song speaking above the crowd in a nasal voice that didn't go with her pretty face.

The trouble started as soon as that song ended. I tried to extract myself from her and return to my seat, where I could see Sara taking a breather as well. But chatty Cathy had other plans I hadn't been aware of. I had reached behind my neck to pry her arms away from me, and as soon as my hands closed over hers she lunged, attaching her lips to mine. My eyes went very wide and I tried to push her away, but she was latched on pretty hard and short of hurting her there was nothing I could do. Over her shoulder I sent Sara a panicked look, but she was as surprised as me, so she couldn't do a thing about it. I tried to shake the woman off but only ended up turning us around together to face a different direction.

I was, therefore, forced to wait until she ran out of air. When she finally surfaced to breath I grabbed her by the arms and prepared to give her the berating of a lifetime when something behind her caught my eye. There was Greg. He was standing just inside the doorway and the crowd had thoughtfully parted to allow him a perfect view of me lip locked to a woman. His eyes were so wide and hurt I thought my heart was going to break and fall out of my chest right there. Before I could even move he turned and fled the club. I looked back at the woman I had a death grip on and glared daggers right at her. She cowered a bit and assumed a confused look.

"I'm gay, you idiot, watch who you kiss!" I yelled at her face, and then before I could even catch her reaction I shoved her aside and fought my way to the bar. A few quick words to let Sara know I was leaving and I raced for the door, praying I could catch my boyfriend before he left. I hoped he was still my boyfriend, anyway. It seemed as if every possible person got in my way and it took forever for me to burst out of the club to the street outside. I look around wildly and spotted a familiar spiky head of hair heading down the sidewalk fast.

"Greg!" I called out to him and I saw him pause and look back. He turned and headed back towards me, almost as fast as he'd been walking away. I quickened my pace to meet him in the middle. "Look, I'm glad you'll hear me out," I said as he got closer. "I was just-" I was suddenly cut off when he swung his arm back and plowed his fist straight in to my face. I dropped like a rock, blood pouring out of my nose. A few people stopped to watch and Greg leaned down, murder in his eyes.

"Charge me with assault and I'll sell your dog you asshole," he hissed in a low, dangerous tone. "We're over." Then he straightened and walked away, leaving me lying in the cold street with a broken nose and a shattered heart. I watched him until the crowd on the street swallowed him up, seeing the way his shoulders tightened like they did when he was hurting inside. I'd never seen them so tight together. With a groan I let my head fall back on to the concrete and simply lay there for a few seconds, catching my breath and pressing on my nose to stem the flow of blood. When someone finally asked if I was ok I let them help me up and called a cab to take me to the hospital.

The doctor asked how I broke my nose and I told him a bar fight. Technically, it could have been almost true. He swallowed the story like a kid swallowing candy, patched me up, and sent me on my way with a cheerful reminder not to pick fights with guys bigger than me. I neglected to mention that Greg was a whole inch shorter than I, and weighed fifty pounds less. Once released, I was at a loss for where to go. If I went home it was likely I would receive another punch. Probably at my teeth, and I liked my teeth. I couldn't go back to the bar with a steel bar on my face, held in place by thick white bandages. So I phoned Sara and told her to meet me back at her place.

The ride over was spent in silence; I didn't even turn on the radio. I was calm when I got there, and calm when she let me in. But as soon as I was seated and she asked what exactly had happened, I broke down, bawling like a little baby. I tried to speak through my tears as best I could and she seemed to get at least the general gist of it. She sat next to me the whole time, draping an arm around my shoulders and holding me close to her side. Somewhere between the second box of Kleenex and the hot cup of tea she brewed me, I let exhaustion overwhelm me and I passed out on her couch. When I woke, the nightmare was still real.


	2. Greg's POV

GREG'S POV

The lab tonight was so tedious I was giving some serious thought to badgering Grissom again about another shot at being a CSI. Nick had accompanied Sara to some bar on the strip to watch over her while she loosened up. She needed it, but I needed my boyfriend. I was supposed to be with them, and yet here I was, two hours after my shift had officially clocked out, still processing samples of semen. Yum and yay. What an excellent way to spend the wee hours of dawn.

None of my results had been coming out as people had been hoping they would the whole shift, so I was anxious to just be done with this, go wrap myself in Nicky, and dance this tedium away. Finally I was done and I was just packing up my things when Grissom came in with a hair sample for me to run. He ignored my protests and reminded me that each case was important. Resisting giving him the middle finger was pretty hard, but I managed.

His hair sample took only moments to prepare, but I was forced to wait another ten minutes while it ran through the system, and then I spent another five trying to find my boss and give the results to him. I was prepared to refuse, no matter what the consequences, if he tried to get me to stay longer, but he only said thanks and have a good night. Oh thank you God, who ever you are. Nicky believes in God but I've always been rather skeptical on the subject. If God loves his children, why do they kill each other? He's never given me an answer for that actually.

But finally I was free to go to him and work out the day's stress. I boogied all the way to my locker and all the way to my small car, telling myself it was warm up for the fun times ahead. My car almost didn't start, and I rolled my eyes and left myself a note on my cell to take it in to the shop. When it did roar in to life I threw up my hands in victory, then tore out of the lab parking lot like it was on fire. Freedom at last, it felt delicious. And then came the traffic. I love to drive, but the traffic in Las Vegas was the epitome of stupid. People weaved between lanes like maniacs and honked their horns at nothing. One guy fell asleep at the wheel while stopped at a red light and, sitting behind him, I missed three green turns until he was woken by the sounds of horns from about fifteen cars.

When I finally, _finally_, made it to the strip, I left my car in an underground lot and began walking the few shorts blocks to the club. Sara had chosen a club that, to me, wasn't really all that great. It was dark, dank, and it smelled too much of sweat. I know people sweat when they dance, but usually the clubs got cleaned. Why Sara liked this one I had no idea, but getting any free time around Nicky and my friends was rare, so I didn't complain. Besides, I liked dancing, and any excuse to do so was ok with me. Maybe Warrick was right, maybe I really was the woman in my relationship. Ah well. It didn't bother me all that much.

I passed a couple making out on a bench and grinned, knowing I'd probably end up doing that in less than an hour. All sorts of interesting people passed by and I took notice of every one of them out of habit. One man with a long trench coat looked like he might be a flasher. One young woman had shorts that were way too – well, short – and it was obvious she was working that particular street corner. I turned the other cheek because even hookers need a break once in a while. Sex was, after all, their livelihood. I wasn't on duty, so I didn't feel obliged to stop her.

There it was! The sign for the bar was neon and one of the letters had burnt out ages ago. The owners had neglected to replace it and it looked classic run down Vegas. I grabbed the handle, pulled open the door, and stepped in to the noise. Like I said, the club was dark, and it took a minute or so for my eyes to adjust. When they did I started scanning heads, searching for my loving boyfriend. Boy did I need to let off some steam, and I knew he probably missed me as much as I missed him. I spotted Sara first, alone on a barstool. When I waved to get her attention she didn't see me; her attention was riveted to something to the left and her expression was shocked beyond belief. When I followed her line of sight a part of me died.

There was Nick. He was standing so close to this petite, gorgeous blonde woman that I couldn't see any light pass between their bodies. Her arms were around his neck and her lips were pressed to his in a deep kiss. He held her hands behind his neck and they swayed to the music as they kissed. I felt my blood run cold and my throat close up and my heart slow dangerously. It took ages for them to pull apart and as soon as he surfaced, Nick caught sight of me. He looked pretty surprised, as if he'd forgotten I was coming or something. Probably the case. His beautiful face was too much, and I turned right back around and let myself back out, all his whispered promises while we had made love running through my head.

Lies. Deceit. Betrayal. Pain. Oh god the pain. It hurt so bad that I couldn't feel anything. My body was numb and my head spun so bad I was dizzy. I was only a few meters away when I heard a familiar voice. My heart broke even more as I heard him calling my name. Out of habit I stopped and looked back, but when I caught sight of him I was filled with a blind rage. Before I knew what I was doing I had turned around and was striding purposefully towards him. His face looked a bit relieved and he said something but I was deaf to his words.

Without thinking of the consequences, I drew back my fist and slammed in straight in to his Texas built nose, almost enjoying the spatter of blood that sprayed out. It was in the split second afterwards that I realized that this could be considered aggravated assault, and I could be charged. I really didn't have much money as it was, and I wanted nothing more to do with him. I needed a threat. What did Nick love enough to use against him? Of course, Maverick!

"Charge me with assault and I'll sell your dog you asshole." I hissed, leaning low so no passerby's could hear me. "We're over." I resisted spitting in his face; that might spur him to ignore the threat. Instead I simply turned and stormed away, striding as fast as my long legs would go without breaking in to a run. I refused to show any kind of weakness for him since he didn't deserve that. I felt the tears welling up inside me, and I couldn't stop them when I got to my car. I made it all the in to the driver's seat before I was overwhelmed, but it didn't stop me. The car was thrown in to gear harshly and once again I sped away. Only this time, I had no idea where I was going.

The bright lights of the state of Nevada had faded by the time I stopped driving to take in my surroundings. A new state had sprung up outside my window. I knew someone in Arizona that lived pretty close to the border, so I stopped in a convenience store to gain my bearing then headed out again in the right direction. When my aunt answered her door, I could tell she had been asleep. But one look at my ravaged face and the blood still coating my knuckles and she ushered me inside. She asked if I wanted to talk about it, but I never wanted to even think about it again. I wanted to die. As I was saying this to her, the tears started fresh and everything flowed from my mouth. She was sympathetic in the right places, angry in the right places, and gentle at the end. She led me to her spare room and I wrapped myself in yellow sheets, soaking the pillow with my pain.


	3. Nicks POV

NICK'S POV

The headache that gripped me when I woke up was massive and I fought feebly against the light filling the room. When the night before came flooding back to me I sat up sharply and ignored the pain behind my eyes. I needed to go home and plead with my boyfriend – or no longer boyfriend – to take me back. It was all a misunderstanding; he'd understand that. I hoped. I jumped off the couch, shouted a cursory goodbye to Sara who may or may not have been awake, and raced out of her apartment.

It was past noon, but not yet rush hour, so the drive home was mercifully quick. I barely remembered to pay the cabby before I was racing up to the front door. It was locked, but I had a key. He'd probably locked it out of habit. I rushed inside and started shouting his name. No answer, but I hadn't expected one anyway. I poked my head cautiously into the living room and the bedroom. When they turned up empty I began to worry. A room by room search was conducted of our two-floor home, but I came up empty armed. Greg was not here. This caused a slight twinge of panic before I realized that he must have done the same thing I had – he must have sought refuge at another's home.

I called his cell, but it went straight to voicemail, so he probably had it turned off. None of our friends were out of cell range. I called Catherine and Warrick first, although he wasn't particularly close to the tall African-American. Neither had seen my him, and neither received an explanation of the situation. When I called Grissom he hadn't seen Greg, but his voice was low when he said he had something rather disturbing to tell me. Steeling my heart, I asked what.

"I haven't _seen_ Greg," he said slowly, "but he called me. He's taking two weeks sick leave. He didn't say where. Is something wrong, Nick?" I couldn't answer. The phone dropped from my hand and I felt my whole body start to shake. What had I done? I should have struggled better, pushed harder, not worried about hurting that woman. I'd rather hurt a thousand people than hurt Greg, and I thought he knew that. Or maybe he had thought he knew that too and then saw me with that woman and all his beliefs flew out the window. I had to find him. Grissom's crackling voice finally reached me and I picked the phone back up. He couldn't spare me from the lab; I had to come in to work.

I begged. I pleaded. I bribed. Nothing worked. My boss sounded genuinely sorry but with Greg gone the work would pile up and he needed all hands on deck to help out. Frustrated I hung up without saying goodbye and sank down to the floor. After a long time I realized that I was still sitting on the ground with a blank mind, and I got up in search of Greg's address book. The next few hours before I had to report to work were spent calling every person in that little black book, and trying to find information without asking questions. Half of them claimed not to have seen Greg in months, and a lot of them assumed he was hurt somehow. I didn't have the time to calm any of them, so I'm sure that half of Vegas was in a state of near panic by the time I pulled up to the crime lab.

That entire night flew by in a blur. Nothing that I processed stuck in my mind, and it was a good thing I was stuck just filling out routine paperwork and taking pictures of one short scene. The others badgered me to find out what was wrong, but I couldn't find it in me to say anything. I sought out Sara on my break instead. I found her alone in the evidence room. She gave me a sad look, so I buried my face in her shoulder and cried. By the time I was rational again, Warrick Catherine and Grissom had all gathered, and I was forced to sit and listen to Sara explain what had happened. They were all very understanding, but it wasn't them who I needed to understand.

I found it very hard to breathe. It seemed as if I had committed some wrong I was unaware of, and God was raining down his conviction. I felt a constant hallow ache in my chest and there was this odd roaring noise in my ears. If not for the work I threw myself at with vigor, I might have gone insane. I spent my time in the paperwork with my head in the clouds. Thunderclouds. I pondered how what was supposed to be such a good evening could turn in to the worst disaster of my life. It was worse than when Greg had been blown through the lab walls, or beaten by that gang of kids. At least those times I knew where he was, and I knew he was ok, and I could assure myself he was still here. And he knew I loved him. Now I had no idea of his whereabouts. I didn't know what he would do. I didn't know if he was ok, dead in a ditch, or considering suicide or what.

Occasionally my friends would stop by and give me a squeeze on the shoulder. I suppose it was meant to be comforting. Actually, I could recall doing the same thing for others on different occasions. What I really wanted was for someone to look me in the eye and tell me with a surety I didn't have that everything would be ok. I needed to know that my Greg would come back. But no one knew that, so they didn't say it. I could have dealt with the lie. I craved the lie.

So lost in my own pain was I that Warrick had to tell me that I was allowed to go home. I vaguely checked my watch, nodded, and headed out without even packing up my evidence. That didn't register until I was halfway home, but it was hard to care about anything right now. I dropped my things by the door and once again checked the house, room by room, just to make certain Greg wasn't there. I think in the back of my head I held out the hope that he would simply meander his own way home and I could sweep him up in my arms and explain everything.

I resorted to calling Mrs. Sanders, all the way in California. When she took the phone from her maid she sounded so much like my lover that it broke my heart all over again and I had to repeat my story yet again. She was silent through the whole thing, and at the end I pleaded with her to help me. I needed to know he was ok. I couldn't stand this not knowing. She must have sensed my urgency, because she didn't mince words. Calmly she mentioned that she had a sister-in-law that lived near the Arizona border. She gave me the number and brushed off my enthusiastic thanks.

"Just find my son and fix this," she urged me gently. "He needs you as bad as you need him, you know." I started to cry all over again, and then we hung up and without stopping for breath I dialed the number she gave me. It seemed like each ring took an eternity, but I counted only three before a female voice picked up the other line. This one sounded nothing like Greg, but when I cautiously asked if she had him with her, her voice turned cold.

"Is this Nick Stokes?" his aunt demanded. I wanted to break, I really did. She had to hear my sobs, they were coming so hard and fast I choked on them and they made my speech broken. She was also silent while she listened to what happened, and she was silent for a long time afterwards. I almost thought she'd hung up on me, but then she sighed a deep sigh and informed me that Greg was on his way back to Las Vegas. I was almost jubilant for a half a second, but her next words tore at me. "He's going to pick up some things, then return here until he can find a new job." The phone dropped from my hand for a second time. Death, I would welcome thee now.


	4. Gregs POV

GREG'S POV

Heartbreak didn't even begin to describe how I felt when evening rolled around again and I woke up. It took hours for me to find the will to even move, and only because nature had begun calling very insistently. When I dragged myself in to the kitchen my aunt was waiting with coffee and a piece of toast. Somehow, she'd known I wouldn't be able to eat. The coffee helped to clear my head until I was able to think rationally.

It was obvious that things between Nick – I shuddered at even the thought of his name – and I would never be the same. I knew that I could no longer work beside him; it would be too hard. The night before I had called Grissom and asked for two weeks off of the sick days I had saved up. Now that I thought about it, they were my two weeks notice. I had to leave that place behind if I wanted to leave Nick behind. I'd thought I found true love, that this was it and nothing could tear us apart. But that little blonde nothing _had_ torn us apart. She had taken my Nick from me and I didn't even know her name.

After a few cups of coffee I let my aunt lead me in to the living room, but as I stared at the television, I couldn't even see it. All I saw was Nick's face, so surprised to see me there, and Sara's face, so surprised to see his blatant betrayal. I was gripped with a sudden determination. Sara, at least, I owed a goodbye to. She had been there, and she would know my pain. Besides, I needed my things from the house that Nick and I had shared for the past year and a half.

My aunt wasn't fazed at all when I set my cup down, stood up, and announced that I had to make one last trip back to Vegas. She listened calmly to my plans and nodded along, telling me that her guest room was mine as long as I needed it. When I slid in to my car I tried to call Sara to let her know I was coming, but my aunt lived in the middle of a dead zone. I'd have to make the call on the road.

By the time my phone leapt back to life, I knew Sara would be at work so I shouldn't disturb her. The screen flashed at me to let me know I had fifteen missed calls, but I didn't bother to scroll through them. They were all part of my past now, and I was sorry to abandon them like this, but it was for the better. I would never heal if I stayed close to Nick, and they were all close to Nick. So I drove on as rain began to fall against the windshield, turning my eyes to the heavens, and started to wonder. Did God really exist, as my ex boyfriend had always tried to tell me? Normally, times like this would cause a crisis of a person's faith. But for me, it made me wonder.

Then, just because I'd never done it before, I tried to talk to God. I asked him if I had done something wrong, and asked him to show me what it was. I promised to fix whatever I had done if only he'd make this pain go away. Then because I was on such a roll, I drove through the rain at night and I told God all about Nick. I cried myself to the verge of dehydration while I spoke about all those little things Nick did that I adored him for. I spoke, too, of the little things that irritated me, and yet made me love him even more somehow. I told God all about how he could never create a creature as beautiful as my Nicholas Martin Stokes.

Then I told him about what Nick had done, and I begged for a reason. More than anything, I wanted to know the reason for my pain. Where had I gone wrong, that Nick wasn't satisfied with what I gave to him? I'd given him my heart, my life, myself. What more could I possibly give? What could _she_ give? When I received no answer from up above I decided that God had known I needed someone to listen to me. It felt good to sit in the silence and fill it up with my words. They weighed my heart and lifted it at the same time. They didn't, however, stop the tears. I cried so hard I thought that maybe God was mocking me with the rain, mimicking me.

When the lights of Vegas shone on the horizon I drove a little faster. I watched the world fly by in the rain and wondered if anyone out there felt how I felt at that moment. I wondered if, right then, anyone else was feeling this lonely and lost. Then I was splashing through drain puddles and turning on to familiar streets, passing houses and buildings that I had passed every day for the past eight years.

I stopped the car outside of the place I had called home and stared at the dark gray siding. We had always meant to buy new siding because the stuff the house had when we bought it together was so ugly. Now I found it mirrored my heart. After minutes of staring, I realized that this was too hard. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. The car started again without a fight when I turned the key and I tore off towards the only other place I had come back for. Sara wasn't home yet, but I sat on her stoop in the rain and let it wash my heart away. I considered talking to God again, but it seemed he was done listening. By the time my friend arrived home I was soaked through and shivering.

She stepped out of her car and stopped when she caught sight of me. We stared at each other for a second before she rushed over and gathered me in her arms. It hurt and felt beautiful all at the same time. It felt good because she knew my pain and she wanted to help. It hurt because it wasn't Nick and it would never be Nick again. He didn't want me anymore. I cried this to her and she lifted herself away from me, looking at me with sad, sad eyes. She heaved a giant sigh and fished her keys out of the purse hanging on her shoulder.

"I have much to tell you," she murmured in my frozen ear, taking my hand and leading me, dripping, in to her home. I gratefully accepted her offer of a shower, and she threw my clothes in the drier while I warmed myself up under hot water. My clothes finished right after I did, and I was dressed again quickly enough. She offered me tea, but I took coffee. She should have known really. As I sipped the scalding liquid and it brought me further alive she studied me. Looking me right in the eye, she told me I looked dead. Blunt as ever. It was refreshing, kind of.

Then she took my hand once more across the table and asked why she had found me on her steps in the rain. I let her in on my plan. I had to leave Vegas, but Arizona wasn't that far away, she could visit me. I told her that I was staying with my aunt, and I would try to find a job close to there. I couldn't even find it in me to crack a joke about my brilliance, and I think that must have worried her. But I was beyond caring whether someone else was worried. I felt as dead inside as she thought I looked outside. My heart had been left behind in a dark bar on the strip, in the uncaring hands of a brunette man I loved and a blonde woman I hated.

"Greg, there's something you should know," she told me. "You don't have all the details." I listened while she told me how she had sat at the bar and looked over to find Nick playing tonsil hockey with that blonde floozy, and I looked in to my coffee, trying to fight my tears. I lost the battle. But she held me tighter and kept going. Nick hadn't gone back to the club after I punched him. I broke his nose – that sounded satisfying – and he's gone to the hospital. Then he had come to her, and I listened in horror when she told me Nick's story.


	5. Third Person POV

THIRD PERSON POV

Nick was still staring at his phone, squawking a long dial tone at him, when it began to ring. It took a moment for the pain fogging his brain to lift and let him answer it. As much as he didn't want to be, he was a practical man. Life had to go on, no matter how bad he felt. And if he was needed at work it was because people were dying of things far worse than a broken heart. So he picked up the phone but his voice was deadpan when he greeted who ever it was that had disturbed him.

"Nick, you have to come over _right now_," Sara's voice insisted from the white receiver. He blinked disinterestedly a few times before he sighed and told her he'd be right over. Actually, he said that after she repeated herself twice. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to live. He wanted Greg to come back home. Of course, Nick realized that we don't always get what we want, so he forced himself up off the floor and out in to the rainy night, in to his car. He drove, half-blinded by self-pity, and arrived at Sara's barely hanging to the last thread of his sanity. He even missed the third car in the driveway. If he'd spotted it, he would have realized it was quite familiar.

"You look dead," Sara greeted him at the door, not resisting commenting when she took in his state. Nick didn't really care. He just sniffled and shuffled over to her couch, flopping down like he didn't care about life. Sara watched him without a word, waiting for him to collect himself. Nick didn't want to collect himself. But he was practical, the world kept turning, so he sat up and faced her. She looked almost happy about something and Nick resented that. How could anyone possibly be happy when he felt this miserable?

Then she told him she had something to show him. He didn't bother raising an eyebrow; he just stared at her without expression. She rolled her eyes and told him firmly that he needed to see this. So he heaved himself off the couch and followed her, sure that he couldn't care less about whatever it was she had for him to see. He wanted this nightmare to end, but he just couldn't make himself wake up. Images of his love's expression flashed through his mind's eye and he flinched away from them. Never in his whole life had he ever wanted to be the cause of that look on that face. The look itself was bad enough, but that it was his fault? Horrible. Sara opened her bedroom door and Nick sighed, following her pointed finger.

Greg. The blonde tech was asleep on Sara's bed, curled in to a fetal position around her fluffy white pillow. The pillow was still wet with the man's tears and even as he slept his face was anguished. Nick gave a small cry and looked to Sara to clarify that what he saw was real. She told him what had happened. Greg had shown up here, saying he was leaving Vegas for good, and she had told him Nick's side of the story. Apparently the younger man had felt so bad about his reaction and breaking Nick's nose that he cried himself to sleep, murmuring Nick's name as he drifted off.

Nick cautiously approached the bed, barely hearing Sara say something about going to Catherine's and leaving them alone. His Greg had come home and he was close enough to touch and he was ok. Not hurt. The brunette man's crying woke the blonde from his disturbed slumber and he opened his eyes to find Nick standing above him. He sat up so suddenly he made the other man jump. They stared in to each other's eyes, both hurting and both so sorry it just hurt more. After a while, Greg slowly lifted himself off the bed and came closer. He ran a finger down the brace gauzed on to Nick's face, his expression apologetic.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Then Nick couldn't take it anymore. He cried out and pulled Greg in to his arms, holding him so tight it almost hurt. But it felt so good for the both of them. It felt so right to be back together and finally understand. They fell together in to the bed and lay there wrapped in each other's arms simply to reassure themselves it was real. The nightmare was finally over and neither had even woken up. Nick noticed Greg raising his eyes to the ceiling and murmuring a thank you and it made him smile. Greg had never believed in God. But sometimes, it took a crisis to give you faith.

Then his thoughts were washed away as Greg lowered his head and pressed a gentle kiss on Nick's lips, almost timidly. When he pulled away and looked nervous, the older man realized he was seeking approval. So with a smile he brought them back together again and kissed until he couldn't hold his air any longer. Normally he'd ignore that and breathe through his nose but right now that appendage was delicate. When he laughingly mentioned this to his lover, the young man ran a finger down the brace again.

He apologized a second time, and suddenly words were flowing from them both, explaining, recounting, apologizing, and reassuring. They both reassured each other of their everlasting love, and that nothing could tear them apart. Even a blonde female nothing. This made Greg laugh gently and that small sound sent Nick's spirit soaring. Finally everything was right once more. He kissed his lover and it felt so good he did it again. And again, and again, and again, until they were both dizzy from the lack of air and loving it.

For hours they lay together, touching, kissing, re-exploring their relationship. Never had either of them felt this close. It was hard to believe that the night before they'd both thought that the biggest happiness they'd found in life was at a tragic end. Both men were gripped by pain when they heard how the other had felt. Nick apologized for not fighting the kiss more. Greg apologized for his reaction. Both called each other stupid in a light-hearted manner. And after all that, they fell asleep together.

Sara came home not too much later, and she crept to her bedroom on tiptoes, keeping an ear in the air. Both of their cars were still here, they couldn't have left, so why weren't they talking? She got her answer when she pushed open her bedroom door and saw the tangle of bodies lying on top of her covers. The tear tracks on their faces belied the main topic of conversation while she was gone, but at the same time they both slept with smiles on their faces, once more at peace with the world. Sara smiled down at them and hugged herself, wondering if there was a more perfectly suited pair of people in the world. Surely theirs was the most pure love she had ever witnessed.

She started a little when she heard a moan, but realized Nick was only shifting in his sleep. His arms reflexively tightened around the blonde man in his arms, and Sara could hear him murmur, "Greg" in a very soft voice. She almost cried happily when she saw Greg, still fast asleep as well, tighten his grip on the brunette's shirt and whisper, "Nicky". It was such a perfect moment she immortalized it forever with her camera. Everyone she knew would be receiving an email with this picture in it.

It was time the world had a renewal of the faith. Not in God, for many have never believed in God. It was time the world renewed its faith in love, and that it could heal all wounds. It's the one thing that never grows old, never truly dies, and never looses its beauty. It was time that the world realized that love in everywhere, it is unexpected, and it is undeniable. Between men and women, or two men, or two women. At the end of the day, what life comes down to is love. For what is life without love?


End file.
